Girl of Her Dreams
by Miss Evrae
Summary: No one would argue with her that the blonde was easy on the eyes; but, in that moment, really looking at Quinn without fear of being glared at or judged like a specimen, Rachel found Quinn to be absolutely, breathlessly beautiful.


**Author's Note:** Inspired by the tale of Psyche and Cupid and Selena's _Dreaming of You_, here's another story that has been distracting me from Concede. Forgive me. This one wouldn't leave me alone. It's got romance, a little angst, some fluff, a teeny bit of drama, an approximate amount of humor and all of it is Faberry. By the way, we have a guest appearance from another subtext-y couple. Enjoy.

**Girl of Her Dreams**

o o o o o o o

Rachel Berry had known from the moment that she'd heard the words Broadway and New York that she would leave Lima, Ohio and become a star. She would outshine all her classmates and make every bully and torturer from this cow town ever regret telling her otherwise. Ironically, it was because she found herself in love with one of her tormentors that she was mulling over her physical appearance.

Rachel stood in front of her vanity, quietly surveying her reflection. Dark brown eyes took themselves in, looking over sun-kissed skin, full lips shut in a thin line, her characteristic (not big) nose, high cheekbones and strong jaw line. Since the beginning of high school, nothing of her appearance had really changed. Her hairstyles perhaps and maybe a few wardrobe considerations, but, ultimately, Rachel had physically stayed the same. It shouldn't have bothered her. She knew most young women her age would kill for her body. Still, the short brunette found herself somehow lacking.

She looked at her calendar. Graduation had come and passed and in less than an hour, she would finally begin her journey away from Lima and McKinley. She would leave all the bigotry, ignorance, narrow-mindedness and cruelty. Closing her eyes, the brunette let the image of blonde hair and a perfect smile fill her.

o o o o o o o

The dreams began on the first day of their Senior year.

After an exciting—Slushie-free and insult-less—beginning of the last year of her high school career, complete with the first Glee meeting and a Myspace video dedicated to said club, Rachel Berry turned off the lights and snuggled under the covers. Closing her eyes with a smile, the brunette let sleep claim her, ready to dream of a Nationals victory and a future on Broadway.

_Rachel lay awake in her bed, staring at her ceiling and the slowly changing shadows as the moon made its trek across the sky. She had no concept of time, as it seemed to both stand still and make haste. Glancing at her clock didn't provide any help._

_The soft creak and click of her door opening and closing caused the brunette to turn her attention away from the ceiling. In a pair of sweatpants and loose T-shirt with blonde hair framing shadowed eyes, stood Quinn Fabray. Slightly alarmed at the fact that the head Cheerio, indeed the Queen of McKinley herself, was standing in her bedroom, Rachel felt her heart thump louder and faster in her chest. Her hands shook with contained fear and adrenaline. She didn't dare blink her eyes._

_When the blonde took a small first step, Rachel swallowed thickly, but didn't move. Quinn continued her slow approach toward the brunette and settled on the floor beside the bed, laying her arms and chin on the mattress. Rachel turned her body to face Quinn, finally able to see the hazel in her eyes. The young ingénue concentrated on evening her breathing, trying to calm her restless heart._

_Quinn tilted her head a little, looking at Rachel with an inquisitive expression. Neither said anything for a while. Rachel couldn't tell if it had only been a few moments or a few hours. There were moments when the blonde would sigh and part her lips in preparation to say something, but instead she'd remain silent and continue to gaze unabashedly at the brunette._

_Rachel knew she had to be dreaming. There was no reason for the Cheerio to be in her room—not even for a Glee assignment—and there was no way they would ever be able to gaze at each other for so long without an insult or snippy comment. She decided that she enjoyed Dream Quinn who didn't look at her like a barely tolerable rash or address her like a military recruit on the lowest rung._

_When the blonde sighed again, Rachel looked down at one of Quinn's hands and forgot reason and logic and self-preservation. The brunette reached across the few inches that separated her hand from Quinn's, keeping her gaze trained on the mix of emerald and amber opposite her. At the last moment, Quinn turned her hand over palm up. Rachel held her breath as their fingers made contact. She'd never really held Quinn's hand, never looked for the opportunity or excuse to do so. Stroking the lightly calloused skin and soft warmth made Rachel wonder what other touches and sensations she'd taken for granted._

_Quinn turned to look at the clock beside them. She sighed. Rachel's brow furrowed as she looked at her clock, too._

0:12…0:11…0:10…

_The brunette vaguely realized that it was counting down. _To what?_ Rachel felt Quinn squeeze her hand and turned to look at the blonde. Instantly, she forgot about the clock as her breath had been nearly stolen away with how close Quinn had gotten, close enough to nearly touch her forehead to Rachel's. The brunette could only stare into those hazel eyes._

0:07…0:06…0:05…

_Quinn gave her a gentle smile and Rachel hesitantly mirrored it._

0:04…0:03…0:02…

_Rachel grasped the blonde's hand with both of her own. A sudden spike of fear stabbing through her, the brunette didn't understand why she was filling with such dread and sadness. She knew her face was contorted with worry, but Quinn didn't seem at all affected and only smiled wider and squeezed her hand again._

o o o o o o o

In the morning, Rachel shook off the dream and went about her usual routine. Her fellow Glee Club members had all made appearances in her La La Land at one point or another. She could finally check Quinn Fabray off that list.

Later that afternoon, as Mr. Schuester went through his usual spiel about teamwork and coming together to take Nationals, Rachel stole a glance at the head Cheerio. Quinn looked positively bored, her eyes directed at a spot just beyond the piano.

"Tomorrow, I'll be posting the sign-up for open auditions and I want you guys to take these," their teacher began handing out New Directions flyers, "and put them up in bathrooms, locker rooms, your classes—with permission—and try your best to get new recruits."

"Don't let your pride cost us another Sunshine, Berry," Santana drawled. Everyone took that as their cue to give the diva pointed looks.

"Yeah, we barely inched out over her last year," Artie added.

"Was she really shorter than him?" Brittany whispered to Santana. The Latina just patted her arm and shook her head.

o o o o o o o

_Rachel lay awake on her bed again, watching the shadows on her ceiling. The dull red digits of her clock read 7:56. The brunette returned to staring at the ceiling. She wondered which Glee member would visit her in this dream._

_When the door creaked open and clicked shut, she was mildly surprised to see the same blonde wearing the same pair of sweatpants but with a white tank top. Rachel blinked. Only a white tank top. She felt her cheeks warm and averted her eyes. This time, Quinn approached and sat on the bed beside her, giving her another shy smile. Rachel returned it._

_The blonde stood and held out her hand. Licking her lips, Rachel swung her legs over the side of her mattress and took Quinn's hand. At that moment, she decided that she enjoyed holding Quinn's hand. The Cheerio's grip was gentle, warm and sure. She didn't think the blonde was able to draw such feelings out of her. Rachel was glad to know that it was possible._

_Quinn opened her bedroom door and led her out into the hallway, stopping in front of her fathers' door. When the blonde took the doorknob and began to turn, Rachel gasped, squeezed Quinn's hand and started to pull her away. Hazel eyes turned to regard her before lighting up with a smile. In a fluid and quick motion, Quinn opened the bedroom door. Rachel let out her breath when the door swung open to reveal an empty room. No furniture. No signs of anyone ever having used the space._

_The brunette croaked in disbelief and confusion._

_Quinn giggled and showed her the rest of the house. All the rooms—the hallways, kitchen, everything—were empty. Rachel could hardly fathom the situation._

_Finally, the blonde brought her to the front door. As Quinn reached out to grasp the handle, Rachel expected to see her street empty and void of cars. She expected anything except a meadow as far as the eye could see. Rachel was sure her eyes were bugging out of their sockets and that her jaw had broken off its hinge, but there was no mistaking the tall grass that went off into the horizon and a small dirt road lined with several dim lights that navigated its way toward a small two-story house in the distance. Above and beyond, the stars and waxing half moon filled her vision._

_They quickly slipped on shoes and stepped out of the Berry house. Several steps away, Rachel turned around and stopped in her tracks. Her house had disappeared. Quinn hadn't let go of her hand and waited for her companion. The brunette didn't dwell on it for long and hid her blush when Quinn smiled and tugged her down the path._

_Rachel took in the modest house. It was a quaint country home, painted a subdued light coral pink with white trim. A porch wrapped around the front with potted flowers hanging from the shingles. Off to the side was a small garden abundant with various flowers and vegetables. Quinn didn't leave her much time to look around outside and ushered her inside where a little fire crackled and popped from the fireplace, casting a soft orange glow on the warmly furnished living room._

_Quinn sat her down on the plush sofa. The blonde took the spot beside Rachel, faced the brunette, tucked her legs under her and reached for Rachel's hands. Rachel mimicked her posture and brought her gaze to meet Quinn's. The blonde was smiling so radiantly, her hazel eyes alight with warmth and a joy Rachel hadn't seen before._

_Rachel had always found Quinn to be pretty in that wholesome sort of way. No one would argue with her that the blonde was easy on the eyes; but, in that moment, really looking at Quinn without fear of being glared at or judged like a specimen, Rachel found Quinn to be absolutely, breathlessly beautiful. The epiphany seemed to suck the air out of lungs. For what felt like forever, Rachel drank in Quinn—the fine arch of her eyebrow, the mesmerizing blend of green and light brown, the delicate taper of her nose and lips that reddened and moistened with each swipe of a pink tongue or bite from perfect teeth._

_Suddenly, Quinn cut her attention to the clock above the fireplace. Rachel followed her gaze. The hands pointed out that it was almost six o'clock. The diva looked out the windows and saw the sky had become pale lavender with tints of orange and blue. Morning was near. A hand pressed gently on her cheek, bringing her face-to-face with Quinn again. The blonde tucked an errant lock of hair behind Rachel's ear before returning her hand to her cheek._

o o o o o o o

Her alarm beeped just as Rachel's brown eyes snapped wide open. She looked at the loud contraption and was momentarily confused before realizing she had to get up to start her morning exercise. Yes, her morning routine that always began at six o'clock on weekdays. Shaking off her sleepiness, Rachel began her day like any other.

In Chemistry, Rachel thought the universe had it in for her when their teacher announced seating arrangements would be according to first name until Winter Break. Reluctantly and a little peeved that she would have to endure being toward the back of the classroom, Rachel moved toward the table that she and Quinn would share for the next four months.

Hopping delicately up on the stool, the brunette turned toward her blonde table partner. "I'll understand if you find this arrangement not to your liking. If you want, I'll be more than happy to suggest a different set up to our teacher who seems to be oblivious or forgetful of the history we have."

Quinn rolled her eyes and merely proceeded to open her notebook. "You know, Berry, it's not that big of a deal."

"Oh?"

"It's not like we're exes or anything."

Rachel mulled that thought over and nodded. "Although that's not quite the way I'd put it, there is truth to your statement. In fact, us being table partners could even result in the building of the foundations for a friendship, which is essential to—"

Quinn cleared her throat and glared with her eyebrow quirked like it usually did when she was annoyed.

Rachel smiled sheepishly. "I mean, you're right. Not a big deal."

About halfway through the lecture, Rachel noticed that Quinn hadn't looked up from her notebook in the last ten minutes, though there were notes to be copied from the board. Sneaking a peek, the brunette was a bit impressed at what she saw. Quinn was already working on their Chemistry homework, furiously going through the assigned conversion problems. Rachel surmised that was the way the cheerleader was able to get any sleep after Sue Sylvester's grueling practices. Nonetheless, she was impressed when class was over and Quinn was tucking her completed homework in her binder.

o o o o o o o

A few days later, as her alarm blared its seven o'clock weekend wake up call, Rachel decided it was time to get to the bottom of these dreams. Instead of going through her elliptical workout, she spent the next several hours Googling, researching and looking up various texts on dreams and their interpretations. She made lists of possible interpretations, prepared a slideshow for her fathers and began the tedious task of finding a therapist.

Mid-afternoon saw the little diva sitting her fathers down for her presentation.

A couple of hours later, the three Berrys (Berries?) were setting up an initial session for Rachel with a one highly recommended Dr. Summers. Apparently, the doctor's alternative practices and interests, which practically rubbed elbows with urban legends, had high success rates.

o o o o o o o

As Rachel waited with her fathers in the therapist's office, she clutched the red faux-leather-bound notebook to her chest. It had been nearly two weeks since the first dream and for the past week, Rachel had been documenting her dreams in said notebook. The brunette sighed, remembering last night's dream and felt a tug in her chest, followed by a slight twist in her gut.

It was the first time she started her dream in the two-story house where she and Dream Quinn spent most of their time. After waking—Rachel rolled her eyes at the irony—in the master bedroom, she found the blonde cheerleader baking in the kitchen. Wispy strands of dark gold had fallen from her high ponytail and a clog of cocoa powder decorated her cheek as Quinn looked over the recipe while holding a couple of eggs above a large mixing bowl. Rachel had grinned at the cuteness of the scene.

When Quinn finally noticed Rachel, the blonde seemed to forget about her culinary pursuit and practically skipped toward the brunette. Rachel found herself on the receiving end of a hug and quick kiss to her cheek, which made her gape at her blonde counterpart in surprise. Quinn only playfully rolled her eyes at Rachel's shock and coerced her into a baking fiasco.

The young ingénue sighed again. She and Dream Quinn spent the rest of their evening decorating and sharing two-dozen cupcakes. Near the end, she stood near a window taking in the beauty as the sky began to lighten with the approaching dawn. Quinn had come up beside her and wrapped an arm around Rachel's waist and, in turn, the brunette leaned her head on Quinn's shoulder. Together they watched the morning arrive.

"Rachel?"

The brunette in question looked up to find a pretty blonde woman with green eyes standing before her. "Yes, that's me."

The woman held out her hand to Rachel. "Hi. I'm Dr. Summers, but, please, call me Buffy. Dr. Summers makes me feel old."

o o o o o o o

A month after the dreams began and two weeks since beginning therapy, Rachel reclined on the comfy leather couch, watching her blonde therapist flit about her bookshelves in search of a particular text.

"Do you think admitting that these dreams will not be ceasing anytime soon means I've gone insane?" the brunette inquired.

Dr. Summers kept going over shelf after shelf. "You're definitely not insane, Rachel."

"If someone told me I'd be having nightly dreams of Quinn Fabray, my former nemesis and tormentor, and that we acted like newlyweds and that I might be enjoying said dreams, then I would have certified them as insane."

"Ah-hah!"

Her therapist pulled a rather slim cloth-covered tome from a middle shelf, smiling as she plopped in the chair opposite the brunette. "It doesn't look very up-to-date," commented Rachel.

"Well, in my cases," Dr. Summers replied as she flipped through the aging pages, "up-to-date can be just as farfetched as ancient."

"Well, one thing is for certain—the idea that Quinn and I could ever act like newlyweds is indeed farfetched. We're not enemies anymore, but we're not what one would classify as friends. There usually needs to be mutual reciprocation on both ends to get to know each other outside of being Chemistry partners in order for there to be a friendship.

"In addition, who is to say that the Quinn in my dreams is at all how the Quinn in real life would actually behave?"

Dr. Summers peeked up from her book over the tops of her glasses. "Is that how you would want her to behave?"

"Do you mean how I want Dream Quinn to behave or how I want Real Life Quinn to behave?"

"You tell me."

The brunette licked her lips and considered her words. Was she projecting an ideal Quinn in her dreams? Or perhaps hoping for a friendship with Quinn? "I don't know. I haven't really considered how my wants or needs may be an influence."

"They're your dreams, Rachel," the blonde therapist said. "Dreams—no matter how outlandish or impossible—are, in many ways, sometimes the manifestations of our innermost desires and thoughts."

"But I've never thought of Quinn so much to actually warrant having dreams of her every night."

"The keyword is innermost, Rachel."

"I still fail to see your point."

Dr. Summers sighed.

o o o o o o o

_Rachel felt her world shift when she woke up in Quinn's arms, wrapped in a thick comforter in front of the orange glow of the fireplace. Quinn must have felt her stir because the strong lithe arms that encircled her shoulders and waist tightened their hold, drawing her closer to Quinn's warm, soft body. Without pause or protest, Rachel nuzzled her face farther into the spot just below the blonde's ear, inhaling the unique mixed scent of something floral and something exclusively Quinn. She found comfort in the clean fragrance, a measure of safety that never failed to soothe her anxiety._

_The brunette had to endure watching a particularly nauseating cute moment between Real Life Quinn and her beau. In Chemistry class, Rachel had glanced over at the cheerleader at least a dozen times, wondering how it would feel to press her lips along the column of the blonde's neck. Could she garner the same reactions from Dream Quinn? So, with boldness and courage that had taken a number of days to acquire, Rachel held her breath and placed a lingering kiss behind Quinn's ear, where the smooth skin of her neck was most sensitive._

_The responding sharp but quiet intake of breath was a sound Rachel wouldn't forget. That little gasp made her heart flutter all around her chest and sent a steaming hot rock sinking in her stomach._

_Rachel pressed her lips to Quinn's neck again, this time closer to her jaw. Again, another gasp. She felt the cheerleader's hands rubbing unknown patterns along her lower back and shoulders. Quinn's touches were heavenly._

_Drawing back to gaze into stunning darkened emerald and amber, Rachel held her bottom lip between her teeth. Quinn took one of Rachel's hands and placed it on her chest, letting the brunette feel the eratic beating of her heart. Rachel pressed her body closer, which made it difficult to distinguish whose heartbeat was faster. With a shaky breath, the brunette tilted her head back a little farther, staring at Quinn's perfect lips with a longing she hadn't felt before._

_The blonde leaned down to meet her._

o o o o o o o

"She kissed me!"

"She kissed you?"

"Or maybe it's more accurate to say I kissed her."

"You did?"

Rachel stomped her foot. "Fine! **We** kissed. Seeing as I cannot determine who kissed whom, then I'll be a bit more P.C. and conclude that **we** kissed. **We** both were active in kissing each other." The blonde therapist watched the brunette heave a big sigh and take her spot on the leather couch.

"What else happened?"

Rachel sighed again and hugged her red notebook. "We cuddled."

"That's it?"

The young girl nodded. "Yes, then my alarm woke me up."

"I see." Dr. Summers stood from behind her desk and sat in the armchair closest to the brunette. Rachel noted that the woman had left her notepad and a short stack of books behind. "Rachel, kissing Quinn seems to be bothering you quite a bit and it looks like you've had some time to think on what happened. Would you like to tell me what's on your mind?"

"I had this dream a few nights ago. It made sitting next to Quinn in Chemistry distracting. During Glee Club, when she and her dumb boyfriend held hands or ogled each other across the choir room, it was so infuriating, so…I don't know…so nauseating! I just—I felt—"

The blonde leaned forward, literally hanging at the edge of her seat. "You felt…"

"—angry!"

"Jealous?"

"Annoyed! Irritated! Livid! Unbelievably upset! Practically fuming!"

"Why?"

At that question, Rachel leapt from her reclined position on the couch and frantically began to pace, her hands a whirl of wild gestures. "**Why**? Because she's kissing **him**! She should know how much that hurts me to see, knowing we shared something so utterly romantic and breathtaking! She was so gentle and tender and every time I think about it, I just want to swoon. I can barely pay attention in class when she's sitting **right** beside me!

"Oh, God, and during rehearsal last week, she sang this cute love song and I swear it was extremely difficult to just sit there while she sang that song to him! She should be singing those songs to me! **Me**!"

Buffy felt her heart clench at the sight of Rachel sobbing and unleashing her heart and soul over a girl she barely knew. "Rachel," she calmly called out to the distressed girl.

Rachel sat and buried her tear-streaked face in her hands. "I need her to see me. I need her to see me the way my Quinn does, like I'm the only girl in the world, the most beautiful and important girl."

"Rachel," the blonde tried again, "have you ever tried talking to Quinn? The real Quinn?"

The teenager visibly deflated. "Not really. At least, nothing outside of Glee or class. Our history has made casual conversations complicated and rather thorny."

"Hmm. Maybe it's time for you to reattempt a friendship with her."

Rachel snorted. "I believe this is when the phrase 'Easier said than done' is appropriate."

o o o o o o o

It only takes a quick glimpse of blonde hair from the corner of her eye to distract Rachel from practicing her scales. Rushing from the piano to the viewing window of the choir room door, the singer stood on her toes, searching the bustling crowd moving through the hallway. A minute later, she turned away from the door with a heavy sigh.

It had barely been a few months, but the brunette knew she was seeing the head Cheerio in a different—more than friendly—way. The dreams hadn't stopped. In fact, with each passing night, the Quinn of her dreams only grew bolder in her advances. And Rachel found herself more and more receptive and excited toward them. The young blonde in her dreams always greeted her with a smile and a quick kiss on her cheek. Sometimes, the two of them would snuggle beneath a blanket in front of the fireplace sipping hot chocolate or lay under the stars on a blanket if the night was warm. Other times, they'd just laze on the porch or listen to music together. On a few occasions, Quinn prepared a candlelit dinner for them, complete with sparkling cider and soft strings playing in the background.

The only things Rachel was certain of were, first, that she wished Quinn were more like her Dream Quinn and, two, that she was beginning to have romantic feelings for her, though she wasn't sure which one—the girl of her reality or the girl of her dreams.

She had finally mustered up the courage to talk to Quinn, to reattempt a friendship as Dr. Summers suggested, though there would be no mentioning of her dreams. Oh, no, that wouldn't go over well at all. Instead, Rachel had devised (and outlined) a plan to warm Quinn up to the idea of becoming study partners. She had even written and re-written several things to say to the blonde cheerleader, including pointing out that they shared Chemistry, Glee and a free period together. Why not, right? Now, if only she could catch Quinn before rehearsals, then she might be able to persuade her without the rest of the club needing something for the gossip mill.

"Oh, Rachel, you're here early," Mr. Schuester commented as he entered the choir room. "We're not starting for another twenty minutes. Did you need to talk to me about anything?"

"Yes, Mr. Schuester. I'd like to perform a song that I've prepared for today."

"Great!" He clapped his hands together. Within half an hour, all the Glee Club members had trickled in. The Spanish teacher greeted everyone and offered Rachel the attention of the room.

Without preamble or introduction, the brunette looked to Brad who nodded and began the opening notes of the ballad. Rachel looked at the faces staring at her—some, like Finn, seemed excited while others, like Puck and Artie, appeared curious. There was one gaze, however, that Rachel didn't dare meet. She knew she'd come undone and her fear would overpower any bravery she had spent the past week building. So, Rachel closed her eyes and imagined her Quinn sitting before her in the chair the brunette had abandoned moments before. She pictured Quinn supporting her with an encouraging smile and, maybe after her performance, a hug and tender kiss.

"Late at night when all the world is sleeping, I stay up and think of you and I wish on star that somewhere you are thinking of me, too."

She imagined the night she and Quinn spent outside, huddled under a blanket on the porch, looking out at the dome of twinkling stars around them. Rachel remembered wishing for endless nights like that one with Quinn, for her dreams to one day become reality.

"'Cause I'm dreaming of you tonight. 'Til tomorrow, I'll be holding you tight and there's nowhere in the world I'd rather be than here in my room dreaming about you and me."

Rachel opened her eyes, trying not to look at the object of her affections. She focused instead on her empty chair and remembered those deceptively strong arms around her waist, how loved and needed she felt in their embrace. Rachel remembered the trail of kisses along her neck and shoulder that always followed, the way Quinn would nuzzle into her dark hair.

"Wonder if you ever see me and I wonder if you know I'm there. If you looked in my eyes, would you see what's inside? Would you even care? I just want to hold you close, but so far, all I have are dreams of you. So, I wait for the day and the courage to say how much I love you. Yes, I do."

The brunette shut her eyes again, wanting to see her Quinn's hazel gaze filled with love and adoration.

"I'll be dreaming of you tonight. 'Til tomorrow, I'll be holding you tight and there's nowhere in the world I'd rather be than here in my room dreaming about you and me. I can't stop dreaming of you. I can't stop dreaming. I can't stop dreaming of you."

Rachel felt a peculiar prickling at the back of her eyes. To fight off her tears, she thought back to the evening that she and Quinn had had an epic pillow fight that ended in a feather-covered living room. She heard the bell-like laughter of her blonde counterpart as they had jumped around their home and how she'd shrieked when Quinn had landed a hard blow on her face. When they'd run out of breath and were sprawled beneath the slow downfall of white fluff, she remembered hovering over Quinn and picking out feathers from her blonde hair.

"Late at night when all the world is sleeping, I stay up and think of you. And I still can't believe that you came up to me and said, 'I love you.' I love you, too. Now, I'm dreaming with you tonight 'til tomorrow and for all of my life. And there's nowhere in the world I'd rather be than here in my room dreaming with you endlessly."

Her voice was resonating in her chest and sending shivers all along her arms and back. Suddenly it was as if the world dissolved away and it was just she and Quinn and the song. She sang for the girl who she hadn't spent much time with but who she met in her dreams every night, the girl who barely knew her but never hesitated to hold her, the girl of her dreams. And in that moment, the brunette realized that Quinn Fabray, despite all the Slushies and harsh words and cruelty, had become the girl of her dreams. In the throes of the closing lines, Rachel sang for herself and with all the love and yearning and need she could express. She gave it her all.

"With you tonight. And there's nowhere in the world I'd rather be than here in my room. I'll be dreaming of you tonight and I'll be holding you tight. Dreaming…with you tonight…endlessly…dreaming."*

Infusing all the emotional power she could command into the final words, Rachel opened her eyes to meet Quinn's tearful gaze, then let her trembling voice fall to a whisper as the piano faded away. Then, like a sledgehammer to her already fragile heart, Rachel watched as that pretty boy took hold of Quinn's hand. The cheerleader broke her gaze from Rachel and offered her beau a shy smile, the same smile that her Quinn had given her during their first meeting.

She felt her hands shake and tingle as she watched the scene before her unfold. A terrible ache that started in her chest shot out along her arms, back and legs, rooting her to the spot. It was only when Mr. Schuester's voice gently called her name that Rachel tasted the salt of her tears that had fallen down her warming cheeks. So she did the only thing that she could compel herself to do. She picked up her bag and left, barely making it home and the safety of her room in time to cry over a girl who clearly didn't want her.

o o o o o o o

_Rachel awoke with the moon shining softly on a face she'd only seen a few hours ago. She watched as Quinn slept and let herself breathe a little easier. No one would ever understand how torn she was, how foreign yet familiar Quinn had become to her over the last several weeks. The brunette watched the hands of the clock hanging on the wall ticked to indicate it was only eight o'clock in the evening. Rachel knew she had eleven hours until she'd wake up again._

_Brushing gently curled locks from Quinn's face, Rachel smiled when the blonde's eyes fluttered open and gave her a smile in return. Rachel placed a soft kiss on Quinn's temple and nuzzled a spot next to her ear, eliciting a quiet but contented sigh from her blonde counterpart. Rachel knew without a doubt that she'd never tire of being with Quinn this way._

_When Quinn lifted her head to press her lips against Rachel's, the brunette felt that indescribable bliss fill her aching chest. It was in the softness of their kiss that Rachel found her desperate longing fulfilled and understood just how much she could love Quinn, how much Quinn might be able to love her. Drawing back to look into Quinn's eyes, Rachel allowed the blonde to place a pale hand over her heart._

I'm here_, Quinn seemed to say._

I know_, Rachel thought. _I love you_._

o o o o o o o

The following Monday at the beginning of Chemistry, Rachel nervously slid into her seat beside Quinn who seemed to be working on Calculus homework. The brunette furrowed her brows in confusion. The paper was dated for that Thursday. Just how far ahead did the cheerleader complete her homework?

Quinn must have sensed Rachel leaning closer to her because she quickly placed the assignment in her textbook. Without missing a beat, Rachel put on a half-hearted smile. "Good morning, Quinn. Please forgive me for intruding on your personal space. I was merely admiring your mathematical skills and comprehension to be able to work on homework that isn't due until this Thursday."

"Uh huh."

It was then or never, she reasoned. "Which prompts me to inquire as to whether or not you'd be interested in becoming study partners for Chemistry. Seeing as we're already table and lab partners and that I've noticed we have the same free period from your frequent visits to the library during that time, I think it would be quite beneficial for both of us."

"So you want to be study partners?"

"Yes, if that is agreeable to you."

Rachel bit her bottom lip as Quinn appeared to process her request, her perfectly sculpted eyebrows even and unmoving above her hazel eyes. Rachel continued to take in the Cheerio's appearance, noticing the darker shade of gold that her blonde hair seemed to have taken on and a light freckle just near the corner of her eye. What else had she never taken the time to see?

"Okay," Quinn answered a minute later.

"Okay?" Rachel parroted.

An indifferent expression set in place, the cheerleader shrugged and pulled out her unfinished Calculus homework. "Sure, why not? It's not like I do anything else during free period."

Rachel was sure her face would split from the width of her grin. "That's fabulous, Quinn. Would you like to begin today?"

The blonde faced her. "In the library?"

"Yes. I like to sit near the windows just behind the History section."

Quinn smirked. "Sounds like date, Berry."

o o o o o o o

For the next month, Rachel felt as if she were dancing along and above the clouds. Even as the snow began to appear and the nights grew colder, she was warmed by the thought of spending her days with Quinn and nights with the Quinn of her dreams.

The brunette was waiting at her locker to meet up with Quinn for their usual study session. It had taken a few weeks, but the two girls had decided to have their sessions at Rachel's house. As it turned out, Rachel was pleased to discover Quinn enjoyed studying with her materials sprawled out on the floor or on a coffee table. The diva had learned a lot about the blonde cheerleader, which only served to make her dreams that much closer to reality, to maybe one day telling Quinn how she felt.

"Ready to go?"

Rachel turned to see Quinn heading toward her, bundled up for the short but freezing trek through the parking lot to her car. The brunette couldn't help the smile that blossomed on her face and answered the same question Quinn always asked. "Only if you are."

"Well, then, let's go," Quinn ushered Rachel down the hallway with hand on her back.

Once in the car, waiting for the engine to warm up and the windshield to defrost, Quinn plugged in her iPod and began clicking through her menus.

Rachel nearly squeaked when the cheerleader suddenly faced her and gave her a meaningful look. "Tell anyone about what you hear coming from my iPod and I may slip something about your insane bedazzling habits."

"Wha—"

"Swear you won't say anything," the blonde demanded, the H.B.I.C. coming out.

Rachel pressed against the cold window of the passenger side door. "I swear."

"Swear it on Barbara!"

"I swear it on Barbara."

Then, abruptly like Dr. Jekyll, Quinn smirked, though her softened gaze tempered the usually ominous smirk. "Good."

Rachel let out the breath she'd been holding. "Quinn, may I inquire about why you need me to promise such a thing?"

Quinn sighed, but didn't answer. She only turned up the volume and Rachel tried to place the pop-like guitar intro. Then, as recognition washed over her, the brunette inhaled loudly ready to berate Quinn on her choice of song.

_I know you. I walked with you once upon a dream._

_I know you. The gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam._

_I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem,_

_but if I know you, I know what you'll do;_

_you'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream._

"Quinn Fabray! How dare you play this abomination of a classic! I for one can't—"

"**Berry**, shut it!" The Cheerio effectively silenced her companion by covering her mouth with her bare hand. Rachel stared wide-eyed at Quinn, not moving or making a sound at the feel of the blonde's hand on her face. Although the action wasn't at all affectionate or romantic, the brunette still felt tingles travel down her neck.

_Once upon a time,_

_I dreamed we'd be together in love forever._

_Once upon a night, I was wishing for a never,_

_a never ending._

_Once upon a time,_

_once upon a night,_

_once upon a wish,_

_once upon a dream._

"Not a word," Quinn whispered, slowly uncovering Rachel's mouth. The brunette clenched her teeth, clamping her mouth shut in a thin line. Her mind was still reeling from the feel of Quinn's hand on her face and the sultry tone the blonde's voice had taken as she'd gazed into Rachel's scared brown eyes. The blonde began reversing out of the stall and making her way out of the parking lot.

_I know you. I danced with you once upon a night._

_There we were, wishing this dance would last forever, all time._

_I hope it's true. This vision is more than what it seems_

'_cause if dreams come true, I know what we'll do._

_We'll dance once again, the way we did then,_

_once upon a dream_.

For the rest of the short ride to her house, Rachel forced herself to hear past the girl's younger, clearer voice and to listen to the bittersweet message of the ballad. Although Rachel knew she or Quinn could do better, she had to wonder why Quinn had decided to reveal her secret liking of tween pop songs. Were they, dare she think it, becoming friends? Hidden by her pink knitted mittens, the brunette crossed her fingers hopefully.

_Once upon a time,_

_I dreamed we'd be together in love forever._

_Once upon a night, I was wishing for a never,_

_a never ending._

_Once upon a time,_

_once upon a night,_

_once upon a wish,_

_once upon a dream.*_

o o o o o o o

Like all things, even good things must come to an end.

Double-checking her bag and locker for anything she might need for the winter break, Rachel hummed a Katy Perry song (a cookie for who guesses correctly) and smiled to herself. The first half of the school year had finished more perfectly than she could have imagined—she had earned straight As, the Glee Club had won Sectionals, her friendship with Quinn was growing stronger and she was falling in love.

"Ready to go?"

"Only if you are," the brunette answered, closing her locker.

Quinn giggled. "Well, then, let's go."

And Rachel let Quinn lead her down the hallway with a firm hand on her back.

In the dimmed lighting of Rachel's room, she and Quinn shared a blanket and a large bowl of popcorn while watching _Love Actually_. Rachel took a moment to think about how far she and Quinn had come since that fateful day over two years ago when the cheerleader and quarterback joined the Glee Club. The brunette could hardly believe that same cheerleader was in her bedroom, eating popcorn out of the same container as her and either not noticing or not caring that their bodies were flushed against each other while watching a romantic comedy. Suddenly, the image of having a relationship—an amorous one—with Quinn and—she held her breath—making a home with her didn't seem so farfetched anymore.

Rachel readjusted her head on Quinn's shoulder and closed her eyes, basking in the feeling of actually being so close to the girl who was unknowingly stealing her heart.

"Rachel," a voice breathed against the side of her face.

The brunette slowly opened her eyes and saw the familiar adoring eyes of her beautiful Quinn. Soft music played in the background. Quinn sat beside her on the mattress, her blonde hair making a soft halo around her head from the soft lighting. Rachel smiled groggily at the idea of Quinn as her angel. She managed to prop herself up on an arm and extended the other to the back of the blonde's neck, intent on greeting the other girl with a proper kiss. Quinn's countenance shifted from affectionate to slightly apprehensive as Rachel closed her eyes and narrowed the gap between their lips.

Rachel kissed the girl of her dreams, sitting up more and bringing her other hand to caress the hollow of her throat and along her clavicle. Quinn gasped and jerked away.

When she heard that gasp, Rachel panicked. Something wasn't right. When she opened her eyes, she looked to where her hand had touched Quinn. There, barely covered by the V-neck of her shirt, was a small scar running almost perpendicular to Quinn's collarbone. That hadn't been there just last night. The epiphany of what Rachel had just done washed over her like a bucket full of icy corn syrup.

She had just kissed Quinn Fabray.

Looking up, Rachel watched as the blonde slung her overnight duffel on her shoulder. The brunette decided she couldn't let Quinn go without an explanation, no matter how absurd or crazy the reason appeared. "Quinn, wait!"

The cheerleader stuffed the last of her things in her backpack and began to walk toward the bedroom door. "I should go."

"No, Quinn, please! Please, I'm sorry! Please, wait! Let me explain!" Rachel practically flew off her bed and retrieved her red notebook from the bottom of her bookshelf.

"You don't have to," the blonde said as she rushed down the stairs. "I really should just go."

Grabbing Quinn's arm before the cheerleader could turn the doorknob, Rachel thrust the notebook into Quinn's free hand. "This will explain everything. Please, I didn't mean to—to—to kiss you like that. I just—I need you to—ugh! I need you to read this and—and maybe if you want—we can talk. And then maybe things can go back to the way they were."

"The way they were…" Quinn echoed her.

Rachel bit back a sob, but didn't even try to fight her tears. "Please. Having you as a friend means so much to me." And she let go of Quinn's arm.

Without another word, Quinn left.

That night, after an entire box of Kleenex tissues and several rounds of sad love songs, Rachel fell into fitful sleep where she couldn't relax enough to even visit the Quinn in her dreams.

o o o o o o o

As the weeks passed and the holidays came and went and classes resumed, Rachel was having difficulty concentrating in her classes. She knew she got enough sleep. In fact, there wasn't a time she could remember that she ever looked forward to sleeping. It didn't matter because she woke up alone and distraught, knowing that it was only in her dreams that she could ever have Quinn the way she wanted. To add to her stress, their Chemistry class had been rearranged alphabetically by last name, which left Rachel next to Jacob and Quinn to share a table with Sam. Her favorite class had turned into her worst.

Every day, as Rachel watched from a distance, Quinn seemed to become more and more beautiful. Every night, as Rachel dreamt of Quinn and her soft touches and even softer kisses, Rachel fell more and more in love with her. And every morning after, when she was forced to watch Quinn flirt and smile at undeserving boys, Rachel barely contained her tears.

o o o o o o o

On Valentine's Day, Rachel was unsurprised when no cards or notes or boxes of candy had been snuck into her locker with the exception of Finn who gave her a heart-shaped lollipop ("Grape's your favorite, right?") during Glee Club.

She knew that further down the hallway Quinn was probably trying to figure out how to fit all her Valentine gifts in her bag if only to appear appreciative of others' courage. Rachel had considered giving Quinn an anonymous Valentine, but knew that it would only end up in the blonde's recycling bin. The cheerleader deserved more than a cowardly way out.

Rachel wondered if Quinn had read the notebook detailing every dream she'd had of the Cheerio. Her sessions with Dr. Summers were spent mostly on getting through the grieving process, but they always ended with Rachel crying and blubbering over losing Quinn. Rachel had to give Dr. Summers some credit. The blonde therapist hadn't given up on her yet and always offered words of encouragement and reminders to not lose hope.

Zipping up her bag and gently closing her locker, Rachel stood and straightened her coat, not expecting to hear a familiar voice ask the question she hadn't heard in over two months.

"Ready to go?"

The diva spun around so quickly she was sure she'd suffer from whiplash. In an instant, her heart began to beat erratically. But it dropped just as suddenly when she spotted Quinn and Kurt walking down the hallway toward her. The blonde had looped her arm with his as he answered, "Ready."

"Only if you are," Rachel whispered under her breath.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Rachel," Kurt smiled and nodded his head at her as he and Quinn approached.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Kurt. Tell your dad I said hi."

"Thank you. I will."

Rachel shifted her gaze to the blonde by his side. "Quinn."

Quinn squared her jaw and steeled her gaze forward, toward the main entrance. "Berry." The brunette watched as the pair exchanged hushed words as they exited the building.

That evening, after she and her fathers got home from eating out at their favorite Chinese restaurant and before her fathers could further celebrate the holiday, Rachel got ready for bed. Turning off the light and sliding into the cool sheets, Rachel pushed the thought of Quinn to the front of her mind, ready to join the girl in her dreams. Seeing the blonde during her sleeping hours was the only reprieve and alleviation she got from her heart-wrenching reality. And, being Valentine's Day, Rachel was eager to experience whatever Quinn might have prepared for them. So, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

But Quinn did not appear before her. Rachel woke, turning off her alarm, confused and disoriented. Where once the blonde's face and their times together were clear and impossible to forget, there were blurred and hazy images. Rachel could barely grasp them in her mind, trying to figure out the unclear shadows and shapes of the girl she thought would never leave her.

Instead, Rachel reasoned that it was shaping up to be a particularly stressful week, especially with college acceptance letters looming over everyone's heads, and that she just had another restless sleep like the night she'd kissed Quinn. So, as she had for years, Rachel went about her morning routine and prepared herself for another day.

o o o o o o o

A week later, Rachel was grumpier and brusque than anyone had ever seen her. One whole week had passed since Valentine's Day and her dreams of Quinn still had not returned. The diva had made her foul mood known to everyone. She snapped at everyone at Glee Club, including the unfortunate underclassmen that had joined that year. There were four storm-outs that week alone. She barely engaged in conversations with her fathers. She had even managed to overpower her dance partners at ballet class due to her pent-up anger. The only person she hadn't lashed out at yet was her blonde therapist, Dr. Summers.

"Rachel, your fathers and I are worried about you. Earlier this week, they called asking if there was anything I could tell them about our sessions that would help them understand what you're going through." When the teenager looked at her from her spot on the leather chaise, the blonde reassured her, "Don't worry. Although it was difficult to not say anything to your fathers, I know you trust me to keep what we say confidential."

"Thank you," the brunette replied, slumping and curling into herself even more.

"We haven't seen each other in almost three weeks, Rachel. What's changed?"

"She's gone," whispered the teenager.

"Who's gone?" Buffy brought a box of tissues into her lap, preparing for the waterworks.

"Quinn," Rachel choked. "Quinn is gone."

Buffy handed over the box of tissues. "Which one?"

"Both," wailed the brunette.

"Both? What do you mean?"

"First, I kiss Quinn—no, the real Quinn—and let her read my notebook, which probably just made her think I'm a crazy, creepy stalker. Now, she doesn't talk to me and only barely acknowledges my presence during Glee Club. Second, I haven't dreamt of Quinn—Dream Quinn—in over a week!"

Dr. Summers promptly closed her notebook and scooted her chair closer to Rachel. "Exactly when did the dreams stop, Rachel?"

"On Valen—"

The therapist's speakerphone crackled to life and her receptionist's high-pitched anxious voice interrupted. "_Dr. Summers, please excuse the interruption. There's a woman here—_"

"_B! Tell the lady to let me in!"_ Buffy groaned, recognizing the lightly accented voice.

"_Excuse me!"_

"_It's impor—"_

"_I don't care if Hell itself opened up, you're not—"_

"_Well, you know, missy, it just so happens that—"_

"Lori, it's okay," the blonde therapist raised her voice. "She can come in." Moving toward her office door, Buffy turned to Rachel. "I'm so sorry, Rachel. I promise this has never happened before. I'll just be a moment."

The brunette nodded her understanding. As Dr. Summers opened the door, Rachel felt her cheeks heat up at the sight of the dark-haired woman standing on the opposite end. She was encased in black form-fitting jeans, a low-cut red top and brown leather jacket. A confident smirk only added to her mysterious but mischievous eyes and fine features. The two women were speaking in such low whispers that Rachel couldn't even make out the movement of their lips.

Before the other brunette left, she winked at Rachel and grasped the blonde's waist while leaning in to mutter something in the therapist's ear. "Get out," Buffy hissed and began closing the door. The dark-haired woman only smirked and chuckled.

"Who was that?"

"That was Dr. Lehane, a colleague and…old **friend** of mine."

"Is she always like that?"

"An uninhibited flirt? Reckless? Rude? Impulsive? Yet completely likeable?" Buffy sighed and resumed her seat before Rachel. "Yes."

"It must be her good looks. She is quite beautiful."

The blonde hummed deep in her throat. "I agree with you on that point. Faith's always used her looks as a means. It's only part of what makes you love and hate her."

"She was very persistent and insistent on speaking with you. May I ask, why?"

Buffy hesitated to answer Rachel. The teenager had found a topic to avoid their inevitable conversation. After Faith's surprise visit and unexpected but pleasing message, she decided to indulge the teenaged brunette. It was clear she wouldn't be opening up as easily anymore.

"Faith merely wanted my opinion on one of her patients who seems to be having a dilemma similar to yours. She knew I was working with someone who was having reoccurring dreams of the same person. I suppose something significant happened and she just had to have a second view."

"Oh." Rachel's brows furrowed. Quinn could see the thoughts forming from her concentrated expression. "She also uses alternative practices and research?"

"Mm-hmm. Dr. Lehane and I have known each other since we were teenagers and always felt special and a little exceptional with certain things." She smiled like she had a secret. "We both ended up interested in the same field and one day, we figured we'd open a practice."

"In Ohio?"

Buffy chuckled at the girl's disbelief. "Yes, in Ohio—Cleveland, to be exact. Before you ask, it was just where we were called. Nothing more."

"Why not a big metropolitan like L.A. or New York? Seattle even?"

"There's a lot more to Ohio than you think."

o o o o o o o

"Good afternoon, Mr. Hummel!"

Burt Hummel looked up from the counter and gave the petite brunette a warm smile. "Hey, Rachel. What can I do for you? If you're looking for Kurt, he's working in the back."

"Actually, my dad got a flat tire and we are need of your assistance."

"Oh, sure. No problem." The mechanic picked up a worn cap, making his way around the counter. "Is he parked out front?" A few minutes later, Burt came back with one Mr. Berry and the necessary papers in hand and started clacking away at the desktop. "It's going to be about a half hour, folks. Would you guys like some coffee? It's on the house."

"Oh, no thank you, Mr. Hummel," Rachel piped up. "I actually remembered I wanted to talk to Kurt about something."

"Sure. He's in the back," the man pointed at a door at the end of the shop. Rachel left the two men to work out the costs over coffee.

She found the boy in question lifting a crate full of dirt and grease clogged metallic parts. Wearing stained navy blue coveralls, including an embroidered patch with his name, his hair disheveled and a few greasy streaks along his brow and down his neck, Rachel would have thought Kurt to be like any other guy in Lima. Seeing Kurt like this only made knowing what lay beyond the coveralls that much more endearing.

"Hello, Kurt."

His eyes nearly bugged out of his head. Apparently she'd caught him in an unfortunate fashion and hygienic situation. "Rachel! Um…hi. What are you doing back here?"

Following him back into the shop, she answered, "Your dad is helping my dad with a flat. How are you this wonderful afternoon?"

"Fine, I suppose. Of course, working in my dad's garage on a Sunday afternoon isn't my idea of a grand ol' time. Still, it's ironic that the only out-of-the-closet guy probably knows more about cars and auto mechanics than most, if not all, of the pigskin-tossing Neanderthals in this town," he answered, setting down the crate. Slipping on gloves, Kurt continued, "Anyway, enough about me. Have you heard the latest news?"

"You know how I feel about gossip," she quipped and watched as Kurt proceeded to scoop and scrape away thick layers of gunk from the part he'd carried in.

"Trust me. This isn't going to stay under wraps for very long." When Rachel sighed in defeat, Kurt took that as his cue to carry on. "I heard from Artie that Tina and Mike talked to Mercedes who overheard Santana and Brittany during Glee that Finn and Puck were consoling Sam after football practice who couldn't understand Quinn's need to, and I quote, 'take a break to discover ourselves.'"

When she didn't comment or question, he deadpanned, "In layman's terms: Quinn and Sam broke up."

Now Rachel's eyes were bugging out. "They broke up?"

She continued to mimic a gasping fish. The young mechanic was unimpressed with her impersonation. "Okay, clearly you haven't come back here for gossip, which I was hoping you were because that would mean something that resembled normal, so I'm assuming there is something else you're in need of. Am I right?"

"I wanted to speak with you in private about something."

"Oh," he raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"Please promise you're not going to blab this out to the first person from McKinley that you see."

"Really? I recall a certain someone failing to keep her own lips sealed over two years ago, which nearly cost us a Sectionals win," Kurt reached for a black plastic container above her head, unscrewed it and dumped the orange and citrus-smelling liquid in a small tub.

Rachel folded her arms over her waist. "You're right, but I'm still hoping that you'll consider my request after I've told you everything." She sighed. He had begun to dunk and scrub a particularly blackened part. "Kurt…"

His silence was her only answer.

"Kurt…how did you know?"

"How did I know what?" he inquired, periodically dunking the part in between scrubs.

"That…that you were…gay?"

o o o o o o o

Rachel saw the two women standing beside the banister—a green-eyed blonde and a dark-eyed brunette. Both were gorgeous and drew many stares and warranted second and third glances from almost everyone in the room, men and women. Rachel had to wonder what it was about Buffy and Faith that radiated something sensual and primal and powerful. Her thoughts were cut short when Buffy noticed Rachel approaching.

"Rachel," the blonde embraced the teenager in a hug. "Congratulations! You were wonderful! I mean I knew you sang but I really had no idea just how talented you are."

"Thank you, Dr. Summers."

"Hey, kiddo," Buffy's dark-haired companion appeared next to them. "Great job. Didn't think a little thing like you had it in ya."

"Rachel," Buffy gestured between the two brunettes, "this is Dr. Faith Lehane, the one you saw the other week."

"Really," the singer smiled.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that. Needed to tell B somethin' kinda important." Faith scratched the back of her neck, looking like an embarrassed girl who got caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Anyway, please call me Faith. None of that doctor crap."

She extended her hand. "Rachel Berry. I prefer to be called Rachel or even Rach."

"Berry," Faith repeated, "Rachel Berry." Buffy and the teenaged brunette grew wary at the smirk that was quickly evolving into a wide grin. "That's kind of cute. Cute name to go with a cute girl." Both fought to release their breaths slowly.

Rachel nervously began to fiddle her hands. "Thank you, both of you, for coming to see us tonight for Regionals."

"Well, we enjoyed the show," the dark-haired doctor winked. "Hey, B, I think I left my oven on or something. Can we go soon?"

"Your oven? But you don't cook. And you certainly don't bake!" Faith just crossed her arms, cocked her hip and gave the blonde a telling look. Buffy just raised her hands in defense and turned to Rachel. "I'll see you soon, Rachel. Again, congratulations."

The singer just smiled and watched as the two women left the lobby, Faith nearly dragging Buffy out to the parking lot. Rachel wanted to laugh. If those two weren't so into each other already, she'd be worried about them.

o o o o o o o

Rounding a corner and speeding down the hallway, Kurt and Rachel hurried to the choir room to escape the group of four hockey jocks holding Big Gulp sized cups filled with their least favorite beverage. Just as they reached the door, Kurt put a hand to Rachel's chest and another over her mouth. She rolled her eyes, but obediently remained quiet. Several moments passed before she quietly cleared her throat, reminding Kurt that she was, in fact, still there.

"Sorry," he whispered and removed his hand and pointed through the window. "Look."

"Baby mine, don't you cry. Baby mine, dry your eyes. Rest your head close to my heart, never to part, baby of mine."

Rachel held her breath as she looked through the door's viewing window, knowing whose face belonged to that pained voice. Brad sat at the piano, accompanying the blonde Cheerio Captain. Quinn stood beside the large instrument, her back to them. Rachel turned to Kurt. "Is today…?"

He visibly swallowed. "It is."

"Little one when you play, pay no heed what they say. Let your eyes sparkle and shine, never a tear, baby of mine." Quinn's voice wavered as she got through the second verse and Rachel wanted nothing more than to hold her as she wept for the daughter who would grow up without knowing her. And Quinn, as much as the memory and decision would pain her for the rest of her life, continued to remember and sing for her little girl. Rachel admired that woman in Quinn, the mother who loved her daughter so much that she let her go.

"If they knew all about you, they'd end up loving you, too. All those same people who scorned you, what they'd give just for the right to hold you."

"Are you ready?"

Rachel looked up at Kurt. "Am I ready for what?"

"To face her again." He pointed at Quinn. "She's going to need you when the song is over."

"From your head down to your toes, you're not much, goodness knows; but, you're so precious to me, sweet as can be, baby of mine."*

Quinn turned, her profile now visible and Rachel could see that she had been crying. Tears formed wet tracks down her cheeks and through her make-up. Her mascara had run a little. Her nose and cheeks were flushed a light pink. As her sultry voice crooned the final lines, Quinn splayed her fingers, stretching her arms out to her sides. Rachel wondered if Quinn felt anything what Shelby had felt when she'd recorded herself singing _I Dreamed A Dream_.

The resonance from the piano strings echoed into silence. Brad procured a box of tissues, touched Quinn's shoulder, smiled and quietly walked toward the door that Rachel and Kurt were peering through. The blonde's gaze followed the pianist and Quinn watched as Brad left and Kurt whispered something to Rachel and pushed her into the choir room.

For several heartbeats, they simply looked at each other. Rachel felt the longing she'd suppressed—since that fateful winter day—bloom and grow within her. She'd missed being able to look at Quinn without reservation. She'd missed gazing into her hazel eyes and having that same longing and affection reflected back at her.

Then, like carefully built house of cards, Quinn sharply inhaled as tears renewed in her eyes. "Rachel," she whispered before slowly collapsing to the floor beside the piano.

The brunette dropped her bag and books, sliding to the floor with Quinn and wrapping her arms around the shaking cheerleader. Rachel shushed and cooed Quinn's name, stroked her hair and rubbed her back. She made a mental note to thank Kurt later.

"Rachel," the blonde croaked. "Tell me I didn't make the wrong choice. Tell me she won't hate me when she grows up."

"If she understands that you still loved her when you made that decision, then I don't see how she could ever hate you," the brunette answered. Quinn continued to cry, whispering her daughter's name every so often. Rachel continued to hold her, hoping that after that day, she and Quinn could be friends again.

o o o o o o o

"Ladies, a man couldn't feel more honored to be asked by two such gorgeous women to accompany them to Prom." Kurt readjusted his top hat and cravat and offered Quinn and Rachel his arms, one to each.

"Well, we have you to thank for helping Rachel pick out a sensible dress," Quinn giggled. Her champagne-colored gown shimmered in slight contrast to the solitary diamonds dangling from her ears and neck. Golden blonde tresses were half pinned up and cascaded in soft waves down her back.

Rachel faked hurt and a pout. "Quinn Fabray, I'll have you know that I picked out this gown myself." The brunette gestured to her classically styled and sequined black gown.

"She did," Kurt affirmed. "I just aided in make-up and jewelry." Just outside the entrance, he had Rachel spin around to ensure her chignon wouldn't come undone and produced three tickets from his jacket pocket. The trio entered the decorated gymnasium and quickly found a few of the other Glee Club members. "Punch?"

Both girls nodded and took the time to really admire the decorations and lights that transformed the usually ordinary gym. As Quinn watched the flashing of the lights and beat of the music, Rachel forced herself to breathe while gazing up at Quinn. She needed a bigger gesture to thank Kurt after that day in the choir room.

Quinn turned to her and Rachel was grateful for the low lighting. She was sure her face had reddened considerably. "I was just thinking about how happy I am to be here with you," the brunette answered the unspoken question, "and Kurt and everyone from Glee." The blonde didn't say anything in reply, but looked over Rachel's shoulder to accept the cup of punch from Kurt.

Throughout the rest of the evening, Rachel danced with Quinn and Kurt and the rest of the club, even Brittany and Santana. When she danced with Quinn, the brunette let her burdens fall wherever they may and lived in the moment even if it was only for one song, for just a few minutes. She wanted to be able to look back on that night, no matter how many years had passed or whether or not Quinn was still in her life, and know that she'd allowed herself one evening of just being with Quinn. No expectations. No false hope. No dreams.

Unsurprisingly, Sam and Quinn were named Prom King and Queen. As Kurt observed, it was like looking at My Size Barbie and Ken. At least that's what was until Quinn rolled her eyes and yanked the microphone away from Principal Figgins'. Many students were relieved to not hear anything more about not drinking the spiked punch but all had perked up to listen to the Prom Queen.

Quinn snapped her fingers. The lights went out save for the spotlight illuminating the blonde cheerleader. Sam came up beside her, whispered something in her ear that made Quinn smile and pecked her cheek before bounding off stage to stand beside Rachel and Kurt.

"Make sure she doesn't run," Sam quietly instructed the other boy and ran off to another cluster of Glee members.

Artie cued the D.J. and the soft notes of a piano drifted from the speakers. And Quinn began to sing.

"Let me sleep for when I sleep, I dream that you are here. You're mine and all my fears are left behind."

Just like out a sappy romantic movie, sparkling lights reflecting off the disco ball winked in and out of existence among the students. From her spot in the middle of the crowd, Rachel saw the rest of New Directions either swaying together or watching from the sidelines with smiles on their faces. The rest of the student body followed suit and soon almost everyone was paired up on the dance floor, captivated by the Quinn's song.

"I float on air. The nightingale sings gentle lullabies, so let me close my eyes and sleep, perchance to dream. So I can see the face I long to touch, to kiss, but only dreams can bring me this."

Rachel looked to Quinn up on stage. Her sultry voice sent shivers down her arms and back and the hopeful but scared look in those hazel eyes sent her stomach churning with anxiety. Not for a second did Quinn tear her gaze away from Rachel. As the next verse began, the blonde held a hand over her heart as if she could stop it from beating out of her chest and another was raised, pointing toward Rachel. Kurt placed a steadying hand on her shoulder when the brunette took a step back.

"What is she doing?" she whispered, disbelieving.

Kurt had both hands on her shoulders. "Apparently you're not the only one who enjoys a lot of theatrics. I thought it would have been obvious when she asked you to prom."

"She asked both of us."

"No, technically she asked you. **You** are her **date**. I'm merely the **escort**."

"So let the moon shine softly on the girl I long to see and maybe when she dreams, she'll dream of me."

Now Rachel was sure she was dreaming. There was no way Quinn was serenading her and slowly walking off stage. She had to be hallucinating. The blonde was at the edge of the crowd, but the dancing couples took notice of the singer and began to part. Quinn continued to make her way toward Rachel as students continued to separate, creating a direct path for the cheerleader. Rachel wanted to take another step back, but Kurt kept her in place.

Quinn was finally before her, her voice ringing clearly in Rachel's heart. Wasn't this what she'd wanted since the beginning of the school year? Hadn't she imagined and daydreamed of the moment Quinn would profess her undying love and affection? Then why couldn't she just accept it, smile and throw her arms around Quinn? The blonde offered Rachel her free hand.

"I'll hide beneath the clouds and whisper to the evening star. They tell me love is just a dream away. I'll dream away."

Rachel stared at the delicate palm of Quinn's hand then back up into hazel eyes.

"So let the moon shine softly on the girl I long to see and maybe when she dreams, she'll dream of me."

As far as she could see, there were no letterman-clad jocks or glaring Cheerios standing near her with a Slushie in hand. Rachel looked harder for video cameras, but found none. Only the faces of her unknown but somewhat familiar classmates staring back at her. When had she and Quinn become the center of attention? And where was Kurt? Whirling around, he stood behind her along with the rest of the Glee club.

Rachel returned her attention to Quinn when she felt the blonde's hand slip into hers. Quinn's hand was shaking. Upon further inspection, the brunette noticed that Quinn was shaking all over. The Cheerio was afraid. She was nervous.

"Oh, dream of me."*

Quinn's hand shakily but steadily trekked up Rachel's arm, fingertips brushing over sun-kissed skin and leaving a trembling trail of goose bumps in their wake. Rachel just kept her eyes on Quinn's, not quite accepting that she was awake. And as the blonde caressed her cheek and slowly leaned forward, Rachel stepped back, shaking her head. She ran.

"Rachel? Rachel!" The brunette cut through the throng of gathered students and bolted out of the gymnasium, running toward the only room where she felt safe. "Rachel!" She heard Quinn's heels clack behind her as the blonde gave chase. "Rachel, please stop!"

She didn't stop until she reached the choir room, cursing the fact that the door was locked. The clap of heels following her slowed and finally came to stop a little more than an arm's length away. Despite the pounding of her heart and heaving of her lungs, Rachel stood straight and as tall as she could, preparing for the inevitable confrontation.

"Rachel."

"Am I dreaming?"

She didn't see Quinn shake her head. "No."

Her lip trembled. Months, so many months had passed since that first dream and she was no nearer to declaring herself to Quinn. Kurt said to have courage. Shelby had given her a lesson in the what-ifs of life. And everyone else, she hoped if things went wrong, would be shoulders to cry on, ears to listen and embraces to confide in. Maybe, if her dreams really did come true, the girl standing before her would be hers and Rachel could she was Quinn's. Maybe that chance for reality was worth more than all the dreams and imaginings she'd had since that first night.

Rachel faced Quinn and squared her shoulders. She stepped forward, barely leaving a hand's space between them. She looked up and offered the blonde a shy smile reminiscent of the one she'd given her on the first night Rachel had dreamed of her. Out of the blue, Rachel felt like she did that first night with Quinn's eyes gazing unabashedly into hers. Within that hazel stare, she saw the adoration and love that had been directed and given to her every night since. Rachel beamed with her epiphany, which prompted Quinn to smile with her. The blonde was smiling so radiantly, her hazel eyes alight with warmth and a joy Rachel had only seen while asleep.

"Can you feel me?" Quinn asked as she wrapped her arms around Rachel's waist.

"Yes," the brunette answered, intertwining her fingers in Quinn's hair. She stood on her toes, flushing her body against the other girl and bringing her face so close she could smell the punch on Quinn's lips.

"Then, I promise you're not dreaming."

When Quinn kissed her and held her so tightly and so closely that Rachel never wanted to farther from her, Rachel decided that the girl of her dreams—no matter how wonderful or perfect she appeared—had nothing on the girl embracing her.

A few months later, as the brunette stood in her room wondering what it was that Quinn saw in her, Rachel knew her dreams were only starting. The boxes and nearly bursting bags lying at the foot of her bed were indicative of that. There would be many, perhaps countless more and she'd share them all with Quinn. So, that morning, when the clock on her bedside table read six o'clock and the dawn began to break apart the evening's stars with light streaks of lavender and orange, Rachel hummed her contentment as Quinn hugged her from behind. "I've got all my stuff in the car," the blonde quietly spoke, resting her chin on Rachel's shoulder. "We just have get your things and we'll be off to the city."

The brunette looked at their reflection in the mirror. They stood there for several minutes, each young woman remembering and thinking of all that had transpired that year. Quinn nuzzled her face into Rachel's hair and sighed.

"Ready to go?"

Rachel smiled and turned in the circle of her girlfriend's—and lover's, she blushed—arms. "Only if you are."

Quinn leaned down and captured her lips in a tender but passionate kiss, reminding Rachel of nights lying under starry skies and beside warm fires.

"Well, then, let's go."

o o o o o o o

**The End**

**Author's Note:** Thank you for reading. I haven't quite decided if I want to post Deleted Scenes or an extended Author's Cut or Epilogue. Let me know.

***Songs**: _Dreaming of You _performed by Selena, _Once Upon a Dream _performed by Emily Osment, _Baby, Mine_ performed by Bette Midler, _Dream of Me _performed by Kirsten Dunst


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